Harry Potter and the Man Who Tied Him To His Bed
by GoldenFilia
Summary: Voldemort is determined to regain his Tom Riddle body, but the change can only take place by the use of a very old object... an object that turns Lord Voldemort into the most terrifying being of all... Magical Boy Pretty Voldemort!


Harry Potter 

and the 

Man Who Tied Him To His Bed 

_Tom Riddle/ Harry Potter, but it's not as creepy as it sounds. Well, I mean, at least he isn't a ghost. Very OOC. Involves Magical Boy Pretty Voldie. ^_^ Also involves Ron/ Hermione._

__

_Part 1: The Evil Plan is Formed_

__"Wormtail!" The Dark Lord called, a hint of panic in his voice, "Bitch, get over here when I call you!" 

A small, tired-looking man hurried over to the armchair where Voldemort was sitting. "Yes, master?" He tried to sound as respectful as possible, but froze when he saw what this master was holding in his right hand. 

A small hand mirror. 

"Wormtail, can you guess what my problem is?" The voice was cold, ice cold, chilling poor Wormtail's heart. 

"Um... I have no clue, master..." Wormtail lied, trying oh so hard to block out his remembrances of his master's narcissism. 

"Well, I'll tell you. I'm ugly, Wormtail. _Ugly. _Of all things... I am the Dark Lord who has risen again from the dead to destroy all Muggles and overtake the wizarding world! I am the all-powerful, the all-knowing... and just look at me! These arms, they look like a rat chewed on them or something." A horrible, disgusting smile crossed his face. "No pun intended, dear Wormtail." 

Wormtail tried to force a laugh. 

"Anyway!" Voldemort resumed, "If I am to be all that I will be, I cannot have a body like this. Wormtail, I need to be sexy again. I need to get back my Tom Riddle body." 

"Uh, master, I am afraid that is not possible..." 

"Silence! You do what I say. Remember, I am all-powerful. I can at least have a sexy body if I want it, and I do want it. Understand?" 

Wormtail nodded weakly. Voldemort smiled that horrible smile again, this time into the mirror. 

"Voldie's gonna be pretty again, Voldie's gonna be pretty again," he sung quietly to himself, in a creepy screeching voice. Wormtail was rather freaked out. Suddenly, Voldemort looked up quite seriously and grabbed his servant's arm. 

"You laugh, do you? You laugh, but if you had been disembodied for this many years, maybe you would want to get some too. And believe me, it will be damn hard to get laid in a body like the one I have now. But as my previous self... the beautiful Tom Riddle, that all the guys were just dying to get a piece of..." 

Wormtail's heart stopped beating for a second. "Excuse me, master, but... all the guys? Don't you mean, all the girls?" 

Voldemort laughed now, a laugh that was a million times more disturbing than his smile. "Whyever would I mean that? Surely after all this time with me, at least you, Wormtail, would know that I don't swing that way." 

Wormtail fainted and fell to the ground with a loud THUMP. Voldemort began to stare at himself in the mirror some more before eventually resuming singing his little song. 

"I love me," he was saying just as his servant reawoke. 

_Somebody kill me, please, _Wormtail thought to himself. 

*** 

_Part 2: Oh my God... Het stuff?! And plot?! _

Harry had not had a good night's sleep. He had kept hearing strange noises all throughout the night, and awoke with his scar burning in pain. The strange thing was, the pain was an almost pleasurable kind of pain, reminiscent of a rather pleasurable dream he had dreamt last night... a dream involving Tom Riddle, and other stuff Harry would rather not think about. 

_Tom Riddle = Voldemort. Voldemort = My enemy. And I would never, ever dream anything like _that_ about my enemy, right? Right?_

__He was contemplating the strange noises as he began to pull back the curtains surrounding his bed. He was unfortunate enough to see Hermione quietly slip out from under the curtains around Ron's bed as he was doing so, and he watched in silence as she exited the room. 

_So. That's where those noises were coming from._

__Harry did not know if this should reassure him or disturb him. On one hand, at least those noises weren't the moans and groans of those suffering by Voldemort's slimy and repulsive hands. On the other hand, that meant that Ron and Hermione were doing thoroughly inappropriate things he would rather not be thinking of in a bed right next to his own. The whole situation rather bothered Harry. 

He rubbed his eyes and rose from his bed. 

Coincidentally, Ron had woken up at approximately the same time, and looked over at Harry with a kind of satisfied glow on his face. Harry glared back at him. 

"So, I've noticed you and Hermione seem to getting on pretty well.." 

Ron blushed bright red. It clashed with his hair. Harry decided he was having a bad day. 

That was when Harry remembered he had a Quidditch match in about five minutes, he was not yet dressed, he couldn't find his broom, and he was hungry. 

He decided it was all Ron's fault. And Hermione's. And Voldemort, for giving him bad dreams that made his scar hurt. Damn them all. 

He got ready as quickly as possible, found his broom, and rushed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Of course, he expected a crowd of angry faces to meet him, wanting his excuses for being late to a Quidditch match- but instead he saw a crowd of panicked students and teachers, and hardly anyone seemed to notice when he came in. 

"Sorry I'm late?" Harry was unsure of what to make of the situation. Fred Weasley turned to him, for once with no smile on his face. 

"The match has been canceled, Harry... You-Know-Who tried to break into Hogwarts last night." 

Harry stared at him. 

Harry stared at everyone in the Great Hall. 

"..._What the fuck_?!" He shouted loudly, causing several heads to turn. Snape chose this moment to announce: 

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for bad language!" 

Professor McGonagall glared at her colleague. "Severus, this is not the time or the place for such trivial competitions." 

Snape and McGonagall somehow entered a glaring contest with each other. Professor Dumbledore chose to ignore them both. 

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was in shock. No wonder his scar had hurt... but how did that explain the dream? He had dreamt of Tom Riddle, after all, not of the new nasty-looking Voldemort. He tugged on Fred's sleeve. When the latter turned around, Harry asked: "Did he succeed?" 

"We don't know. We don't know what he was after... If he was after you, well, you're certainly still alive. Nobody is missing or dead. But he did spend several hours in the castle before Fawkes fought him off." 

"Fawkes?" Somehow, this seemed almost hilarious to Harry. The dark lord... defeated by a _phoenix_... sometimes, he wondered just how powerful this Lord Voldemort was. First of all, a really powerful dark lord should have a few hundred followers, not the dozen or so that he had seen. Second of all, a young boy like him had now escaped this dark lord four times. Third of all, no really serious dark lord would choose a name like _Voldemort._ How pathetic was that? And last of all, no one with such power as Voldemort was supposed to possess would choose to be reborn into a body like the one he was reborn into. 

But, anyway. 

Dumbledore pulled Harry over to one side. "Harry, I'm afraid that because of this little... incident... I'll have to ask you to stay in the Great Hall for awhile. Of course," he added hurriedly, "All your classmates will be with you. It's just, you especially must not go out for any reason, Invisibility Cloak or no. I don't know what Voldemort was searching for- he didn't seem to be heading towards any student lodging, but who knows. Anyway, you are allowed to have all your possessions with you, just please, _please_ don't go out of our sight." 

Harry pondered this for a second, then realized that whatever he replied, he would still most likely be battling Voldemort in a few pages, as that was what always seemed to happen. So he forced a smile and nodded. 

What bothered him was that he soon caught sight of Ron and Hermione, who were laughing and giggling at the concept of all the students sharing the Great Hall that night. Harry felt sick to his stomach when he considered what the two of them might be planning to do... Battling Voldemort was sounding more appealing each second. 

*** 

_Part 3: Introducing the Infinitely Terrifying Magical Boy Pretty Voldemort!_

"I now have all I need!" Voldemort felt that, as an evil dark lord, this would be a good time to cackle evilly. He did just that. 

"Yes, lord, yes you do," Wormtail sighed, exasperated. Of all the evil dark lords he could have served, why did he have to choose this one? So far, he had lost his moral values, his honor, his arm, and his sanity to this nutcase. _He could at least have a cool name, _Wormtail thought irritably. 

Voldemort was cradling a small box in his arms. The box was made of pure gold with strings of pearls as lining. "Should I open it, should I open it?" He asked Wormtail eagerly. Wormtail frowned. 

"You're an evil dark lord. If you open that box, you do realize that you might lose your evil self, right?" 

Voldemort glared a vicious, terrifying glare. "I might no longer be evil, but at least I'll be pretty. This was a dear treasure to Tom Riddle, and with it's power I can become him once more." 

"But what if it's power possesses you? Surely Tom Riddle had some other precious belonging that doesn't harbor the kind of power that this does." 

"Nothing remains, Wormtail, nothing remains of my past self. When I decided to become Voldemort, I destroyed everything I held dear- except this, which I hid in Hogwarts after my second year there, with a spell that kept it from ever being touched by anyone except for me, and even I could not touch it with a purpose to destroy. It is the only thing that still exists of my life as Tom Riddle." 

Wormtail looked at his master strangely. "And you're absolutely, 100% certain that no other spell will give you what you want? Because this thing is really too dangerous..." 

"Silence!" Voldemort looked at his servant with some expression on his face that Wormtail realized with a shudder was supposed to be a pout, "Anyway, I want to see it again. It's been so long." 

Wormtail realized he had no choice. After all, he was the servant and Voldemort was his master. 

"Open it, then." 

A deep, anxious silence fell over the room as the dark lord pried open the golden lid. Suddenly, a blinding light filled the room... and soon died down, to reveal a small gold-and-pearl tiara resting in a bed of red satin. 

"Ah, it's as beautiful as I remembered it..." Voldemort's voice was soft, and for once was not screechy or creepy. "No wonder Hagrid was in love in with me." 

Wormtail thought he might faint again. "Hagrid... you mean, that big giant-guy... in love with you...?" 

Voldemort looked at his servant in surprise. "Of course. Him and a million others... haven't I told you anything about me?" 

"Well, my lord, you usually act pretty secretive..." 

"Hmm. Well, I suppose there's time for stories later.. I am just dying to try this on." 

"No!" Wormtail burst out, causing Voldemort to look at him suspiciously. "I just mean to say, my lord, surely you don't want to risk it's power taking hold of you again...?" 

Voldemort said nothing, but silenced Wormtail with another very frightening glare. Wormtail cringed. He continued to cringe as Voldemort brought the tiara to his head... as he placed it on the top of his black hood... as a pink light filled the room, and his lord began to swirl around... as the Dark Lord Voldemort suddenly transformed into Tom Riddle, but with excessively long hair... as Tom Riddle's black robes became a little schoolgirl sailor fuku... as a pink wand with a heart on top appeared in his hands. The transformed dark lord gave his servant a Victory sign. 

"It's Magical Boy Pretty Voldemort!" He exclaimed, obviously pleased with himself. 

*** 

_Part 4: Harry Gets A Clue_

Harry awoke in the pitch black Great Hall after the most terrifying dream he had had in a long, long time. He had dreamt... of Voldemort... and something that reminded him of that Muggle show, what was it again, Sailor Moon or something. But, the name didn't matter. He was terrified. He suddenly felt the need to pray, to pray that he would never again have a dream that horrible. 

He rolled over in his sleeping bag to realize with a start that, in the sleeping bag next to him, his two best friends were doing things they really, really ought not to have been doing. Harry found himself extremely angered by this. 

"Stupefy!" He yelled, pointing his wand at the two of them. He smirked satisfactorily at the very compromising position they were frozen in, and happily imagined what would happen when they were discovered the next morning. 

Ha. Serves them right. 

He wondered why nothing else had happened yet; why no one was dead, why Voldemort wasn't making an appearance, and why his scar was hurting after a dream like _that. _Perhaps it was just a headache. 

Harry decided the best way to make something happen was to don his Invisibility Cloak, slip out of the Great Hall, and go in search of Voldemort. 

Harry might have realized that this was a rather stupid idea, if he hadn't already survived the dark lord four times, and if he wasn't such an idiot to begin with. 

He was almost out of the room when he saw Professor Dumbledore in front of him, a strange expression on his face. Harry hung his head, knowing that Dumbledore could see through the cloak. 

The headmaster cleared his throat loudly. "Severus, I'm going out in the hall for a bit, to check things out there... I'll be back soon, is that all right with you?" 

Severus nodded sleepily. 

Harry followed Dumbledore obediently out into the hall. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry took off the cloak and began apologizing. 

"Never mind that, I knew you wouldn't pay attention to me anyway. There are two important things I must tell you." Dumbledore seemed anxious, even impatient, and this interested Harry. 

"Yes?" 

"I have received information from some sources of mine that are partly good and partly bad. The bad news is that Voldemort is very close to the school, and we believe he has plans to come back. here. Maybe to find you. The good news is that a new ally has arisen, an ally we thought had been lost long ago." 

This certainly interested Harry. "Who is it?" 

"We don't know his name... he was very prominent around the time that Tom Riddle first came to this school. No one knows anything about him, other than that he always came to help whenever there was trouble or evil in the vicinity, and that he liked to dress in drag." 

Harry blinked. "Excuse me?" 

"He always wore a strange short pleated skirt and carried around a pink wand with a heart on top." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "It was rather attractive, actually..." 

Harry's scar was really starting to hurt now. He decided it must just be a headache. 

"However," Dumbledore became serious now, "he disappeared after Tom Riddle's second year at Hogwarts. Just as Tom Riddle started to become evil." 

"Oh." Harry was starting to understand something, something so extremely terrible it hurt his scar just to think about it... "Was the skirt he wore, by any chance, pink and purple?" 

Professor Dumbledore nodded, a curious expression on his face. 

"And did he wear a gold and pearl tiara on his head?" 

Another nod. 

Harry grimaced. "That's not an ally..." He informed his headmaster, picked up the Invisibility Cloak and rushed down the hall. 

*** 

_Part 5: Voldie Gets Pretty_

"It is about to begin," Voldemort spoke quietly, having resumed his usual form. Wormtail nodded. 

"Master, are you sure I really need to cut off my other arm? I'll be pretty useless, ya know..." 

"Would you rather cut off _something else?_" Voldemort asked threateningly. Wormtail was frightened. 

"Um, that's okay..." The servant said sadly. He rather liked having arms... oh, well. That was the penalty for allying himself with the most evil overlord around, he supposed. 

So a big fancy ceremony-thing took place, and using the power of the tiara, Voldemort was transformed into Tom Riddle. The body was perfect- all the beauty of a sixteen year old hot guy, combined with all the power of the evil dark lord, was striking even to the poor armless Wormtail. The only condition to remain with his sexy, sexy body was that he had to have the tiara in his immediate possession at all times. 

Which was actually a pretty big condition, they both realized, as it would seem to be a pretty easy thing to rob somebody of. 

Voldemort stared at his servant with soft, dark eyes, and swished his gorgeous black hair away from his face. 

"Wormtail, bitch, get me a mirror." 

Wormtail glared defiantly at his master. "I _would, _my lord, but it appears that I have no arms..." 

Voldemort realized that this was true, and he performed some fancy spell. In no time, Lucius Malfoy appeared before him. 

"Luscious, darling, how do I look?" He asked vainly, posing with his hands on his hips. Lucius seemed kind of taken aback. 

"My lord... is this really you?" 

"Of course it's me, you idiot! Who do you _think_ it is? I just reclaimed my old body, okay? So, Luscious..." 

"Please, my lord, must you always call me 'luscious'?" 

Voldemort smirked a highly attractive seme-smirk. "Why, of course I do, honey." 

"Very well then, my lord. You look ravishing. I envy the man who gets you first." 

Wormtail burst into tears. "Am I the only one who didn't know that my lord is gay?!" 

Lucius looked surprised. "You didn't know?" 

Wormtail continued to cry. Voldemort looked irritable. 

"Luscious, darling, get me my mirror." Lucius did just that. Voldemort took it and admired himself for several hours before finally returning it to Lucius, who replaced it, secretly wondering why this uberpowerful dark lord couldn't walk over to the table and pick up a mirror himself, or at least use a Summoning Charm. He would get fat, and it would serve him right. 

"Well, now I believe I'll be off to go kill Harry Potter," Voldemort announced, tucked the tiara into the pocket of his robes, swished his hair for a second time, and walked out of the room. 

His servants stared after him, completely shocked. 

"Um, my lord... would you like some help with that?" Lucius called out tentatively. An angry voice answered him. 

"Are you implying that I cannot defeat that boy on my own?" 

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "No, my lord, of course not..." 

Out in the hallway, they both heard Voldemort chant some spell, apparently at himself. It would seem he was putting some kind of Charm on himself, but it was nothing that either Lucius or Wormtail recognized. Lucius sighed and Apparated back to his home, figuring that his business here was done. 

Wormtail found it difficult to worry much for the fate of his master, given the fact that he now had no arms and was bleeding all over the carpet. He wallowed in self-pity for a while. 

Voldemort, meanwhile, was making his way towards Hogwarts. Harry was at the same time making his way out of Hogwarts. It was rather astonishing for the two of them when they collided into each other in the dark. 

*** 

_Part 6: The Plot Gets Slashy!_

"Who are you?!" Harry exclaimed, obviously not expecting to collide with some random person. Harry could almost feel his smirk. 

"Lumos!" Came the reply, the reply in a sexy, deep voice, and suddenly Harry was clearly able to see the man in front of him. The man looked exactly like someone he had seen several years ago, in a memory... 

"Tom Riddle...?" Harry was very unsure about this. Boys who existed around fifty years ago don't often appear at your school, even a school so filled with ghosts as this one was. Plus, one didn't often collide with a ghost. One walked through a ghost, one did not _collide_ with a ghost. But he was quite sure that this man was the sixteen-year-old self of his arch rival. 

"No, not quite." The sexy voice struck Harry again, and he looked up at the face he so clearly remembered with something close to... close to... desire? "This is Tom Riddle's body, certainly, I congratulate you for recognizing it. But Tom Riddle is dead, remember?" 

Harry Potter remembered, and he nodded to show it. 

"But then... who are you?" He asked, unable to tear himself from those deep, dark eyes... 

"I am Lord Voldemort, the one you just saw reborn. I... revised my appearance slightly," Voldemort replied. Harry suddenly found it possible to tear himself from those deep, dark eyes, because he remembered that he didn't particularly like Voldemort, and that perhaps he should try and do something about this. 

He had three options. Option one was to go get Dumbledore. He considered this impossible because Harry Potter had quite a bit of pride, and he didn't want to compromise it by running for a teacher. Option two was to try and fight Voldemort himself. This seemed like a good option, except that he had very stupidly forgotten his wand back in the Great Hall. Harry realized all of a sudden that he was the stupidest person who had ever lived. Option three was to stand here and let Voldemort kill him. All in all, this seemed like it might be a good thing to do... except that he realized he should probably at least put up some kind of fight. 

Harry threw himself at Voldemort and attempted to beat him up. The latter gave out a cry that surprised Harry muchly. 

"Don't! You'll mess up my hair!" 

Harry did not know what to think. Harry wasn't sure he was supposed to think... could this really be Voldemort, the evil dark lord? He pulled back, unsure. 

"Harry Potter... I came to kill you, as I'm sure you know. But before that, well, I just got back my sexy body after many, many lonely years, and there's something else I want to do first..." 

Harry was stunned. He did not cry out, for he was once again captivated by Tom Riddle's deep, dark eyes, and he felt helpless within them. He nodded briefly. 

"I am up to any challenge Voldemort has for me," he said, wondering what it was that he felt so suddenly as he put his arms around He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

"That's right, darling, that's right," Voldemort replied, stroking Harry's hair. "Now, show me the way to the Gryffindor tower... not past any teachers, mind you." 

Harry cuddled up to Voldemort and threw the Invisibility Cloak around them both. They quietly made their way in through the castle, in a roundabout fashion that did not pass any teachers. Soon they were in Gryffindor Tower, in Harry's bedroom, and on Harry's bed. 

They had hot, wild, kinky sex. This hot, wild, kinky sex involved Harry being tied to his bed, and finding himself surprisingly enthralled by the whole situation. 

When they were through, and it was almost morning, Voldemort decided that enough was enough, and it was about time to kill Harry. 

"It is a shame to have to kill you, really," Voldemort said almost wistfully, "You're really great in bed." 

Harry smiled what he hoped was a charming smile up at his enemy. "Well, then, perhaps you don't need to?" 

"Oh, no, I really do. It's my entire point of existence, see, to try and kill you." 

Harry felt extremely helpless and started to wonder if he shouldn't have let himself get tied to his bed. 

"So..." Voldemort raised his wand almost regretfully, "Ava-" 

And then the tiara he had placed on the bedside table rose and soared across the air onto Voldemort's head. A surprised, even angered look crossed his face as he started to go through the long, complicated magical boy transformation. 

It ended with a very handsome, long-haired Tom Riddle standing near the ravished Harry Potter and wearing a pink and purple sailor fuku with a pink wand in his hands. 

"It's Magical Boy Pretty Voldemort!" He cried, holding his fingers in a little Victory sign. "Harry Potter, I can let no harm befall you, because I will always be here to defeat evil!" 

"Well, that's good," Harry seemed relieved, "Leave, now, immediately, and I'm sure I'll be fine." 

Magical Boy Pretty Voldemort smiled at Harry, flew out of the bedroom window, and was gone. The funny thing was, he didn't fly away on a broom, but rather what seemed to be an aura of sparkles. "You really were good in bed," he called out after him, causing Harry to almost smile, if he hadn't suddenly been questioning all he had done last night. 

Why, why why why why _why_ had he just slept with Voldemort/Tom Riddle? That was sick and wrong and immoral and... 

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by the commotion he sensed downstairs. _Oh, no, _Harry realized with a start, _they'll all think that Voldemort took me away. And not in the good way that he actually did._

_I mean, in the bad and sick and immoral way..._

__Harry didn't know quite what to do. He didn't know how to untie himself, and if anyone came up here and saw him like... like... _this_, then he would never live it down. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't really in the mood to see anyone right now. 

At that exact moment, he heard the portrait swing open in the common room, and three people stepped through. 

"I am taking you two to your own, seperate bedrooms, and you will stay there until classes start again, if that ever happens," Harry distinctly heard Professor McGonagall's voice, "I can't believe you two, doing what you did while your own best friend was carried away like that..." 

"We didn't know he was being carried away!" Ron's voice replied indignantly. "It's not our fault!" 

"Of course it's not your fault," the professor replied bitterly, "But that does not explain the breach of conduct that would allow you two to be doing that in the first place." 

Harry lay there for a minute, confused, until finally it all came back to him. He had Stupefied Ron and Hermione... having sex... no wonder Professor McGonagall seemed so angry! With Harry gone, and the people next to him Stupefied, it must look like he was just carried away by Voldemort. 

But he still did not want to see anybody. 

Harry heard Hermione's weeping, and felt almost guilty. He listened as she walked into her bedroom and the door was locked behind her. He heard Ron's indignant steps as he walked to the bedroom he shared with Harry. Harry stayed perfectly silent in his bed in the corner while the door was locked behind his friend. 

"It's not our fault, anyway." Ron repeated to himself, "It's not like I _asked_ Voldemort to Stupefy me and kill Harry." 

Harry felt a surge of pity. "Ron," he whispered loudly, "Ron, come here! I'm still alive!" 

Ron looked around wildly, and soon saw Harry stretched out naked on his bed, the curtains thrown back. 

"Oh my god!" Ron cried out in surprise, "Harry, you're still alive... thank god you're still alive..." He paused a moment, and it seemed that he had just realized now the fact that Harry's hands were tied to the bedposts with leather straps, and that Harry was thoroughly devoid of clothing. "What the hell happened to you?! You look positively _terrible!"_

__"Voldemort didn't think so," Harry replied hotly, "He thought I looked quite nice, thank you very much." 

Ron stared at his companion for a long time. "...Voldemort?" 

"It's a long story," Harry said abruptly, "Anyway, the fact is, Voldemort is no longer a threat to anyone. He's gone, Ron, gone," A smile crossed his face as he said this. 

"Did you kill him?" Ron asked eagerly. Harry frowned. 

"No, but I promise you, he's totally harmless. I can't really explain, it's just..." 

"Oh, never mind," Ron seemed happy enough, "I'll get you off the bed, okay? But you need to get yourself dressed." 

Harry would never, in a million years, have expected Ron to question him so little about what he was doing tied up to his bed naked, and now claiming that Voldemort was harmless. _But,_ Harry reflected, _if he really had thought that I was dead, perhaps this is just relief. The questions will come later._

__Harry dreaded telling anyone exactly how Voldemort had gotten him tied to his bed naked, but decided to worry about that later, when the time actually came. 

For the meantime, he supposed that all was well. 

*** 

_Part 7: Evilness is Gone!_

"I'll never be evil again, Wormtail, never," It almost looked liked tears were forming on his gorgeous long lashes, "It's all gone to waste, and for that stupid tiara with a mind of it's own!" 

"I told you so," Wormtail couldn't help but add, still wallowing in self-pity in his little corner. Voldemort glared at him. 

"What can I do, though? Every time I try to kill someone, or hurt someone, the Magical Boy will possess me and I won't be able to go through with it. But if I lock up the tiara, I'll be ugly again!" 

"Oh no, you poor thing," Wormtail said sarcastically, rather liking the idea of his master without any power to kill or hurt anybody, and looking down at the place where his arms should have been. "So, did you run into Harry Potter?" 

"Yeah, and I fucked him, too," Voldemort said proudly. 

Wormtail nearly fainted again. "You WHAT?! That little boy let you _fuck_ him? And you _wanted_ to?!" 

"Of course. I put a Charm Charm on myself before leaving, so that everyone who saw me would want me. And of course, Harry Potter saw me. I got him tied to his bed, too," The dark lord felt it was necessary to mention. 

Wormtail attempted to cover his ears with his hands, but was, for obvious reasons, unsuccessful. 

"Now what can I _do?" _Voldemort whined, "I can't be evil... I don't want to be good... There's nothing I can do!" Suddenly a very, very happy thought came into his head. "Wormtail, do you know of any gay bars around here?" 

Wormtail looked at his master, unbelieving. "Why would I know of any gay bars around here?" He asked innocently. 

"You're my servant. Find me some." 

It was with great reluctancy that Wormtail finally replied, "Well, I seem to remember some place that I heard about during my time as a rat... Fred and George Weasely snuck off there a lot..." 

"Who?" 

"Never mind." Wormtail gave quick directions to his master, who seemed to be suddenly in a much better mood. 

"Hooray! Now maybe I can't kill helpless Muggles, torture my servants and get revenge on Harry Potter, but at least I can still get laid! Nobody would know I'm really around sixty years old with a body like mine... I only look sixteen..." 

And all was well. 

~~~ OWARI!~~~ 


End file.
